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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689213">jared on jeopardy!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohoron/pseuds/lohoron'>lohoron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Silicon Valley (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, How exciting, Jarrich, Jealous Richard, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, anxious boys, he has totally applied before, jared on jeopardy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:13:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohoron/pseuds/lohoron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where Jared never got shipped off to Avalon. And where he goes to Culver City to participate in Jeopardy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. richard needs to relax</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Richard's been working on trying to fix the cloud for four days. Jared has just dropped a Jeopardy! sized bomb on him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>stupid silly ideas like these make me giggle. hope this is any good &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you mean, you're gonna be on Jeopardy?” Richard questions, huffing out a tired breath. He’s been trying to figure out this <em>cloud bullshit</em> for like… four days. His schedule is bordering on little to no sleep, and the only thing he's eaten today is his fingernails. </p><p>So when he gets news that Jared is gonna be on Jeopardy in a week, he feels a quiet, seething resentment. Jared is gonna be in Culver City while he's going to be sitting at home, trying to figure out how to prepare for TechCrunch. In what world is that fair?</p><p>Jared smiles, his hand flat on his chest in excitement. “Oh, I had almost forgotten about it. They called me… a while back. I never knew how to approach the topic to tell you--”</p><p>“Like, you're gonna be on the real Jeopardy? This isn't fucking… like… some shitty homemade production that your old lady friends put together?” Jared nods his head happily, and Richard feels like he’s going to strangle someone. He drops his head onto the table sadly, arms hanging limp at his sides.</p><p>“Oh… Richard. If you don’t want me to go, that’s okay. I can stay. TechCrunch is so soon and I know the timing is awfully inconvenient--”</p><p>Richard squeezes his eyes shut and gets over his selfishness, “No, no, you should go… It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, y’know? Don’t pass it up. You’ll regret it.” He lifts his head back up and manages a forced smile.</p><p>There’s a little squeeze of his tired hand and Jared smiles sincerely. “We’ve got that meeting with ‘The Carver’ set up tomorrow, to help us with the cloud. I know you’re opposed to it, but your face is so sunken. Goodness, I can’t stand seeing you so upset another minute.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Jared,” he waves nonsensically and closes his MacBook, sighing. “Just. I’m gonna go to my room. Try some more stuff. Uh- see you tomorrow morning.” Jared salutes him as he walks away, and Richard tries to keep his expression as stoic as possible as he nearly marches away to his bedroom, leaving the annoying, and frankly suffocating, workspace of the hostel living room/dining room/computer room. </p><p>He closes the door to his room and groans out of pure frustration. Jared’s seriously going to leave them during this time of literal <em>crisis</em> to go play some fucking trivia? He’s seeing red. It’s just not fair, is it? That the new employee that practically forced his way in here (which he’s kind of gotten to like… a lot. His presence is welcoming and happy and it forces Richard to realize the nice things in the world) gets to skip their biggest competition ever? Something that has been fucking with all of their heads for months. And he just <em>forgot to mention it?</em> What kind of bullshit is that?</p><p>Richard grunts as he presses his MacBook onto his desk and leaves it closed, laying down on the floor with his face down. He’s so fucking jealous. And pissed off. And sleep deprived. And heavily irritated and most of all really fucking mad at himself. </p><p>Because this is <em>good</em>. Jared deserves a bit of a break. God, that guy does everything for him. And he’s still so nice all the time. And accommodating. And so fucking pleasant to be around. Jared deserves a break. But he’s still so angry that it’s happening now. That this has to happen during the middle of their rise to fame. </p><p>And that’s not actually why he’s angry. It already seems like a bullshit reason in his head. A reason he’s kicking himself for even creating in his head. He presses his lips together, biting down on the little amount of skin he has left on his bottom lip. </p><p>Just when he feels a fucking <em>tear</em> (pathetic, Hendricks. Great job. Crying over your friend going on a gameshow that he seems genuinely excited for) prickle in the corner of his eye, there’s a soft knock on the door.</p><p>“Richard?” It’s Jared. Of course it’s Jared. “You seemed… angry. I thought you might be hungry.” </p><p>Richard grabs for his stomach, suddenly hearing the grumbling and feeling the pang of lightheadedness like an unexpected high. He groans a bit, lifting himself from the floor and walking over to the door, quickly wiping his stupid, annoying tears with the arm of his hoodie.</p><p>He opens the door, revealing a doe-eyed Jared Dunn holding a turkey and cheese sandwich. And Richard can’t help the corners of his mouth from softly perking up, letting Jared in with a shuffle of his feet and a weak, “hey”.</p><p>Jared puts the plate on top of the dresser and Richard immediately walks over and eagerly takes a bite. “Thanks,” he chews rather obscenely and Jared smiles, placing the napkin he’s been clutching next to the plate. “Sorry I was a dick. Am a dick. Ha. I just… it’s been a tough few days. Lots of tension. No relief. Constant like… doubting myself. Whatever. It’s just. You should be excited to go. That’s like… a huge thing,” he mumbles, mustard and mayo catching on the sides of his mouth.</p><p>“Thank you,” Jared smiles, placing one of his big hands across his chest, face sincere and lovely. He lowers his hand and grabs the napkin, wiping sauce off of Richard’s mouth.</p><p>Richard laughs uncomfortably and takes the napkin out of Jared’s hands, taking care of the spillage himself. </p><p>“You should get relaxed. Maybe take a bath, get on a nice cozy sweater, and climb into bed for at least a few hours?” Jared suggests, moving to be behind Richard. His fingers wrap enthusiastically around Richard’s bony, knotted shoulders, starting to rub the tense muscles. Richard holds his breath, almost forgetting to chew a piece of his turkey sandwich. It feels nice. Being touched a little bit. He feels a little bit delirious and Jared’s hands are like two warm pillows and he can feel Jared’s breath against his neck and he shivers, chuckling awkwardly.</p><p>“Is this okay, Richard?” He asks softly, the whisper sending a tingle down Richard’s spine. Richard nods, groans a bit when Jared massages a fucking gigantic knot in his left shoulder.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah. That’s nice,” Richard manages to mumble back, his eyes softly closing and his mind less and less focused on the stupid sandwich in front of him and more and more focused on Jared’s huge, calming hands. He leans back a bit, allowing Jared to get a little bit closer. The huge gap between them shrinks a tad. Jared smiles, happy to do anything to make Richard feel even just a little better.</p><p>Jared steps closer now, rubbing his thumbs against Richard’s sore shoulder blades, his nimble fingers reaching to softly press down on his collarbones. </p><p>A little moan escapes Richard’s mouth before he can catch it and to say that it embarrassed him would be an understatement. But Jared’s a little bit closer again. Almost close enough that Richard can lean against his chest. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>Oh, there’s a bulge in his pants now, isn’t there? He can feels his dick getting harder but he doesn’t wanna look down because then maybe Jared would look down and then maybe Jared would <em>see</em> that a fucking shoulder massage is turning him on. “Still good?” Jared suddenly whispers, the voice catching Richard by surprise. He nods, biting down on his lip to keep in another embarrassing fucking moan.</p><p>“Mhm. Good,” Richard confirms, feeling Jared’s chin right by the side of his ear. Hearing his voice so fucking close -- Oh, he is definitely hard. And showing… Oh God. -- and feeling his hands travel down to his triceps. Listening to him breathing in and out so confidently. This is the end of him. This is the demise of Richard Hendricks. He’s sure of it.</p><p>He doesn’t know what he’s going to get out of this. Or what he even wants out of it. All he knows is that this feels much too good to not keep going. And it’s just a fucking shoulde rub. God, there is nothing sexual about it. He’s oversexualizing this whole situation. Fuck, he hasn’t jerked off in five days. And he’s getting so much attention all of the sudden and it’s so incredibly perfect that he’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken a single breath in over five minutes.

And then Jared takes a single step forward. Half a step. And Richard unmistakable feels a hard bump against the curve of his back and he shocks forward, eyes wide and terrified. He stares back at Jared, who is standing there with a sad flush on his face. Embarrassed, covering his bulge with his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I will… I’ll leave you alone, Richard. Forgive me.”</p><p>The door opens and shuts behind him before Richard can say another word and he feels… empty. And exhausted. And <em>edged</em>.</p><p>He groans loud and annoyed, locking his door in frustration and climbing the stairs to his stupid lofted bed. He lays down with his face in his pillow and his hand reaches down his pants to tug quick and ugly. Moans spill out of his mouth, locked in place by the pillow muting him. He's thinking about Jared. What would have happened if Jared had just... seen. Reached his hand down. Done this for him. What would have happened if he had had the balls to lean into it. God, he's lightheaded. He's already gonna orgasm. Embarrassing. Almost record time, he counts.</p><p>When he comes, it's with a loud groan as he presses his hips into his hand tightly. He's so pathetic. God, he's so pathetic. And he's made everything more complicated than it has to be yet again. Has given all of it an extra fucking layer. Because now Jared knows that he knows that Jared was hard. But Jared doesn't know that Richard was almost coming in his fucking boxers. Jared doesn't know that Richard used his stupid imagination to create a universe where Jared had seen. And Richard had been responsive and confident, grinding back down on Jared.</p><p>And he comes again.</p><p>He didn't even notice he was still jerking himself off, but he feels it hit his tummy and pool against his sheets. This is bad. This is bad, right?</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. hey, can i sleep in ur bed tonight?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Carver fucks everything up. But Jared is there to help Richard through it all.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Richard shuffles his socks across the floor, walking into the kitchen with tired eyes and bed head. Gilfoyle and Dinesh are already dressed, drinking a mug of coffee and both eating a disgustingly smelling ham and cheese croissant. </p><p>“God, that looks nasty,” Richard mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he reaches into the fridge for the almond milk. He grabs a box of cornflakes out of the pantry.</p><p>“No, it doesn't,” Dinesh responds hastily, taking a bite full of the buttery goodness. “You look nasty.”</p><p>Richard scoffs as he pours the milk over his cereal, reaching for a spoon. “Thanks.” He takes a big bite, feeling some sense of normalcy restore.</p><p>“He isn't lying,” Gilfoyle responds, “We have to leave in fifteen minutes and you look like you just got spit out from a fucking crater.” </p><p>There’s a pang of sadness that flushes over him. He couldn't sleep all night, the cloud perpetually on his mind. And yeah, maybe Jared a little bit too. But that's just a layer of complicated shittyness that he can't deal with right now.</p><p>He ignores the comment and pours a mug of black coffee, shuffling back into his room. The turkey sandwich from last night is still on his dresser. Gross. But all he does is shrug, eating quick spoonfuls of cereal while eyeing his closet for an outfit to wear. </p><p>After ten minutes, he is… somewhat decent. And ready to leave. He spots Erlich, Jared, Dinesh and Gilfoyle sitting on the couch and surrounding chairs, presumably waiting for him. The eye contact he makes with Jared immediately makes him feel like he's playing a game he's already lost. </p><p>“Hey, so…” he shoves his hands in his pockets, looking directly at Jared. He has not thought this through. But he needs to make sure that Jared doesn't… feel weird. Or is not gonna do anything drastic like ignore him. Or hate him. Or something. And he needs him to know he won't do the same thing either. “Jared-- can I. Can we talk? Alone for a sec?” It’s mumbled as always, but Jared gladly gets up from his spot next to Gilfoyle and follows Richard back into the kitchen.</p><p>“Ten dollars that this is about a beautiful woman Jared has had sex with and Richard now wants her,” Erlich says, breathing in a hefty cloud from his bong. </p><p>Dinesh looks incredibly confused, shaking his head. “Why… why would that be it?”</p><p>“That is exactly why I only said ten dollars,” he explains, “it’s like taking candy from a baby. Nothing. Had I believed that statement I would have bet at least twenty.”</p><p>Richard tugs down on the strings of his sweatshirt and bites down on his lip as Jared and him sit down at the little dining table. “So. Uh. Yesterday…” Richard starts, trying to study Jared’s face for any sign of disgust. He finds nothing. “What happened-- is like. It's cool. It can happen, like, to anyone. So. Just… just don't worry about it. Okay?”</p><p>Jared lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Richard,” he squeezes Richard’s hand. Richard feels his cheeks turning red, stealing his hand back from Jared. </p><p>“Yeah. Not a big deal. So. Do you wanna… get going? The guys are waiting for us.” He stands up abruptly, and Jared nods, following the shorter man back into the living room. </p><p>---</p><p>The meeting annoys Richard. </p><p>This little kid is better than he is, everybody says, but he doesn't seem very smart. Or nice. Or like he has any hair on his balls at all.</p><p>And now it's only a couple of days later and <em>the kid</em> is sitting across from him, acting like he's smarter than everybody. </p><p>It pisses him off. That he now has to watch this kid configure the cloud like it's fucking nothing. And everybody’s praising him. Jared’s holed up in the garage trying to learn every piece of irrelevant trivia he can, separated from the world at large. </p><p>It pisses him off even worse when the little kid (who was just <em>SO</em> much better than Richard, mind you) fucked their entire system. And even more when he won't help him find the solution because he ran out of fucking Adderall. </p><p>And then Richard goes out to the pharmacy to get this dumb kid’s medication. And they won't fucking give it to him because he's not his licensed caregiver or whatever fucking bullshit they spat at him in Walgreens. He doesn't remember.</p><p>Disassociating all the way back home, he gets a call from The Fucking Carver, asking him shaky-voiced if he’s got his prescription.</p><p>“No! I don't fucking have your pills! They wouldn't give them to me and now I have no clue what you want me to do because <em>you</em> are an idiot and literally fucked up my entire platform!”</p><p>And it goes on for hours and hours until Erlich manages to get some from the kids down the road that always make fun of Richard. It goes on for HOURS until the fucking kid and him figure out the mistake he made, unfucking their system.</p><p>Richard is never gonna listen to other people ever again. This has been a disaster. </p><p>---</p><p>Richard is cuddled into a blanket watching a cartoon on his PC when there is, again, a soft knock on the other side of the door. “Come in,” he mumbles from his spot on the floor, and a lanky Jared appears in the doorway.</p><p>“Hey,” Jared says softly, closing the door behind himself. He sits down next to Richard, looking awfully informal in his big white t-shirt and boxer shorts. “Would you mind if I join you for a few minutes? Can't quite sleep.”</p><p>Richard nods, gulping. He offers Jared one half of the blanket, which was a bad fucking idea, because now he’s watching Bojack Horseman whilst nearly cuddling Jared and he's sure that this is going to destroy him in just a few hours.</p><p>But right now, it's kind of nice. Richard even rests his head on Jared’s shoulder and laughs along quietly, sometimes hearing Jared huff out a humorous breath. </p><p>It's so gentle and caring. Even when Jared wraps an arm around Richard’s shoulder and pulls him in a bit closer. Richard feels his heart beat out of his chest. God, it's high school all over again, isn't it?</p><p>The dumb butterflies in your stomach cliche? The blushed cheeks around your little crush? Ah, he's crushing for Jared. </p><p>Against every single little voice in his mind telling him to run, he presses pause and asks, “Can you sleep here tonight?”</p><p>Jared smiles, and he squeezes Richard’s shoulder. “Surely.”</p><p>“Uhm. Would you wanna… like. Be up in the bunk with me? Is that okay?” The idea of waking up to Jared’s beautifully blue eyes makes him honestly feel dizzy. </p><p>“Yes, of course,” Jared comments back, a smile spread over his face. Richard’s hands are clammy and even though Jared isn't touching them, he's pretty sure he knows. </p><p>“Thanks.” He checks the time, 2:34 A.M. passing in the upper right hand corner. Jared shuts the computer and drapes the blanket off of them, nothing but the dim light of the little lamp on the dresser illuminating them. Richard is still dressed in his day clothes, too tired to change out of them at any point in his night.</p><p>And honestly, he doesn't even want to change his stupid clothes. What does it matter? He doesn't have enough energy for this shit right now. </p><p>“Do you need to get changed? I… I can leave for a bit,” Jared asks, a tint of light pink flushing over his cheeks. </p><p>“No! Uh. No, heh. That's okay. I mean. I’m just gonna-- If you wanna leave, that's okay. Heh. Whatever you want.” He unzips his hoodie, still anxiously mumbling. He hangs it around his chair and starts to unbutton his shirt, facing away from Jared.</p><p>Jared doesn't say anything. He’s standing with his hands clasped and his eyes darting across the room. He surely doesn't sneak a peek at Richard’s cute little back. Dimples on the bottom. Good to rest your thumbs in.</p><p>He shakes the thought, and Richard throws on an oversized t-shirt and starts to climb up the stairs. </p><p>There's a stupid excitement bubbling inside of him. He knows it's stupid. Because they’re just gonna sleep next to each other. It's not a big deal. It feels like one, though.</p><p>Richard presses his back close against the wall, watching Jared come up shakily. He lays down on his side next to Richard, feet spilling out. Richard curls his knees closer against his chest, smile on his face. “G’night, Jared.”</p><p>“Sweet dreams, Richard.” </p><p>And Richard tries to sleep. Really, he does. But every few seconds, he opens his eyes to steal a glance at Jared’s calmed face. He stares down at his lanky arms and long face and he feels so much all at once that he thinks it should be illegal.</p><p>He inches closer to Jared until his knees hit Jared’s chest, curled in tightly. Jared’s arms wrap around Richard, holding him close. Richard gasps, not knowing that Jared was even still awake. But he melts into it, shifting even closer and breathing soft breaths on Jared’s neck.</p><p>No words are exchanged. Just a mutual understanding of comfort. And some bizarre way to feel loved.</p><p>---</p><p>When Richard wakes up in the morning, he feels like he’s gone crazy.</p><p>Because Jared is still asleep behind him, arm wrapped around his waist and legs tucked under the space of Richard’s raised knees. Fuck, it feels so wonderfully perfect. So kind and gentle and loving and Jared-like.</p><p>Jared who is leaving to go to fucking Jeopardy! in just two days. And Richard knows it now. Knows that his behavior the day Jared told him was incredibly selfish. Knows that he should just be happy to let him go but he fucking can’t even imagine being without Jared on two of the three days of Tech Crunch. It seems… bothersome. </p><p>To not have him around to do all the stupid businessy stuff. To not have him around to ground Richard. At least he’ll be there the last day they’re there. </p><p>Richard rises the blanket up to his chin and sighs, his eyes fluttering closed again. He feels Jared’s arm wrap tighter, warm breath against the messy mop of curls on Richard’s hair. But he doesn’t flinch. Or freak out. He leans back and smiles and wants to stay here forever.</p><p>And then, of course, because nothing good can ever happen to Richard Hendricks, Erlich bursts into the door with (certainly) no good intentions.</p><p>“Young Richard, we need-- Oh. Hello… <em>Jared</em>,” Erlich scolds as Jared turns around and rubs his eyes sleepily, body still wrapped around Richard. Richard sits up, careful not to hit his head, and turns a bright crimson. “Enough canoodling. We have more important matters to tend to, follow me,” Erlich proclaims, starting to walk out of the door.</p><p>“Erlich, God, give me like, a fucking minute, please?” Richard mumbles, trying to get his hair in order. Erlich doesn’t respond, per usual, and just shuts the door behind him. Richard groans and lays back again, now facing Jared. “Good fucking morning, right?”</p><p>Jared smiles and nods, scooping his arm around Richard’s waist again. God, his hand feels impossibly big on his back. And the little sniff he takes of Richard’s hair is making him forget how to breathe. “Exactly. Good morning, Richard.”</p><p>Is this normal? Yeah, right? Cuddling with your friends? When he was a teenager, he used to cuddle with Big Head while watching scary movies. This is the same thing. Definitely the same thing.</p><p>And then Richard looks up at Jared’s sleepy face and his messy hair (which is always fucking neat; so this feels like a triumph of sorts) and his star-strikingly blue eyes and he can’t help but feel like it finally is a good morning. “Did you sleep okay?” Jared questions, brushing a curl from Richard’s eyes. Richard curses himself for blushing.</p><p>“I slept well. Yeah. Uh- And you? Did you… sleep okay? I didn’t like, move around too much?” Jared shakes his head, corners of his mouth ticked up. </p><p>“I slept wonderfully,” Jared whispers, playing with one of Richard’s curls in the back of his head. “This was really nice. I missed… Gosh, this is embarrassing, but, I missed human interaction. True human interaction.”</p><p>Richard feels tempted to agree, but it doesn’t make any sense to him. He’s always hated being touched. Has always hated being cuddled and loved and shown affection to. But it suddenly feels a little different with Jared. His skin still crawls, but it’s a pleasant kind. Little goosebumps rising to his skin. Like an iced cocktail at the beach on an insanely warm day.</p><p>“Yeah. ‘Tis nice. I like… uh… not being alone. At night.” He feels like a fucking baby. An incoherent little man baby. </p><p>“Richard, if you don’t mind me asking, could we do this again tonight?”</p><p>Richard feels ridiculously relieved. “Yeah.” It’s almost a little too certain, but Richard feels an incredible amount of comfort from Jared’s soft facial expression. “Yeah, yeah. I’d like that, I think.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is literally just endless and constant fluff &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. oh. okay. this might as well happen.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A lot of things happen. Richard tells Jared to shut up. And makes him blueberry pancakes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jared has a gigantic arrangement of cards laid out on Richard’s bedroom floor (“Richard, do you mind if I use your room for my Jeopardy preparation?” “No, yeah, I mean- heh, yeah! Sure. You can use my room.”), his eyes tired and sunken. He’s been looking at random facts for like ten hours now and it’s kind of driving him insane.</p><p>This is a lot -- all of it. Going to Culver City whilst TechCrunch is going on. Finally getting through Richard Hendrick’s thick barrier of needless self-protection and his off-standish nature. Not being able to keep this momentum. Feeling like he’s going to collapse from forgetting to eat breakfast and lunch. Jesus, it’s all just a lot. He wants to lay down.</p><p>He’s exhausted from learning about Grover Cleveland and British Royalty -- and he’s completely certain he knows more about useless shit than anybody else in the world. Turning the final index card over, he feels a sense of useless victory when he gets the answer correct (The card in question? <em>On Feb. 28, 1983 nearly 106 million people watched a war end with the last original episode of this CBS show</em> The answer in question? <em>What is M*A*S*H*?</em>). With his stomach moaning at him and his head pounding from side to side, he gets up from his little spot in the corner and opens the door.</p><p>He stumbles into the kitchen to microwave one of his ready made meals (this one being half a block of tofu, some broccoli florets, and a side of black beans), blasting it in the microwave for a total of 45 seconds. He stares longingly at the microwave plate turning, the seconds seeming to take longer and longer. </p><p>“Hey Jared,” Dinesh chimes about half-way through the waiting experience. Jared waves back with a smile on his face, because he cannot possibly be anything other than enthusiastic. But then Gilfoyle walks in, too. And then Erlich walks in. And then he just wants some peace and quiet.</p><p>The microwave beeps and he sighs in relief, getting ready to go back to Richard’s room when he gets stopped by Richard himself, staring down at the ground with his lip in between his teeth. “Hey,” he mutters, waving his hand spastically and looking at it as if he’d just made a horrible mistake. </p><p>“Hey,” Jared smiles, and he really wants it to be genuine but he’s afraid it really, kinda isn’t. “I was gonna go back to… to your room. To just eat and finish up a bit.”</p><p>Richard pulls a face (the scrunchy one, y’know), and shakes his head. “Could I… I don’t know. Could I maybe have like… some time alone in there? Sorry. It’s just- heh… we’re together a lot. So I just want… just a little bit of time. In private,” Richard mumbles, eyes closing and opening periodically. Jared barely catches it, but the message is loud and clear.</p><p>Jared has become overbearing again.</p><p>“Yeah. Yes, absolutely. I will… eat in my room.” Jared smiles and turns away, expression immediately falling as his back faces Richard. He really does not want to cry. It would be stupid to. It would be so, so pathetic. He does not want to be pathetic.</p><p>But he can’t help it. God, he somehow manages to get into the door of the garage and he sits down on his cot with tears in his eyes. It feels deafening. Everything feels like the end of the world and nothing feels like anything and he’s wondering what he’s ever done to just <em>become</em> like this.</p><p>A person who pushes people away. Magnetically or something. Just something in his stupid brain that opposes people so much. Something on his body that repulses others. That makes them aware of his imperfections in record time. God, this is torturous. There isn’t even enough air left in the room for him to breathe in. </p><p>Jared clutches his chest and counts backwards from eighty-four. When he was sixteen, he lived in yet another abusive foster home. But most of the anger was directed towards his mother. By his father. Or random men. When Jared’s panic attacks got way too intense, way too frequent, to deal with, he counted to the number eighty-four (08/04 was the date that day, and his brain somehow decided that that would be the eternal number. But counting up became much too easy, not enough for his terrified brain to hold onto, so he started counting backwards. It took so much more time. So much more focus on anything that isn't his scary, accelerated breathing.).</p><p>By the end of the count, he’s just left with a few tears prickling in his eyes and a heavy beating in his chest. His body is clutched around one of his pillows on the cot, which he grabbed somewhere in the middle of it all. He assumes that this is what it feels like to die. And right as he starts to gain some sense of composure, Richard storms into the door.</p><p>He inhales sharply, tears dropping from his eyes even before Richard has said anything, “Hey, man, uh-- I realized that what I said just now was like… I don’t know. It came off--” Richard finally takes his eyes off of his shoes, “Holy… Oh, shit. Jared, are you crying?” he questions, looking genuinely terrified. He closes the door quickly.</p><p>“No! No, don’t be silly. I’m good. I am not crying,” Jared says, trying somehow to convince himself and Richard at the same time. Neither really seemed too convinced. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Uh… okay. Well, I-- I’m sorry for what I said. Just now. I just mean that I… God, this is embarrassing. Uh… are you okay to hear something embarrassing? Heh.” Richard is turning red, getting closer to Jared and getting ready to sit next to him. </p><p>“Yeah, sure, Richard,” Jared smiles, wiping his eyes and trying incredibly hard to even out his breathing. </p><p>Richard pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture of some girl. “So. Heh. This girl… Tiffany, I think? She just like. She said that she liked tech guys and I was like… heh… I’m one of those. And then I just like,” he mimics typing a text message, “texted her and asked her if she was real as a joke, y’know,” Jared nods (he does not know), “And she like, sent me some pictures of her… boobs. And I… Kinda wanted to, like, look at them. Alone. Heh. God, that’s-- So gross. Why’d I say that?”</p><p>Jared chuckles and feels his stomach sting. “It’s not gross. Everybody needs to masturbate. I was actually going to do so myself after my meal. My aunt Ruth always said that maturbation is a window to self-care that many people don’t even attempt to open due to social biases.” Jared reaches over to his food and takes a big hunk of tofu, smiling at Richard.</p><p>He feels a bit better.</p><p>“Really?” Richard asks, eyebrow cocked. Jared nods. “Wow. That’s like… that’s cool. I like- I was always in a pretty conservative area? So, like, talking about personal stuff was kind of the worst thing you could do. My mom thought I hadn’t masturbated yet when I was seventeen and was like… infuriated when she found a spot of… the stuff… <em>cum</em>- whatever-- like on the sheets. Heh.” </p><p>There’s a little bit of relief in Richard’s pose as he settles into his spot next to Jared. “I have always been taught that sexuality is open. Really broad and unexpected. I’d never kiss and tell, but masturbation is more than that to me.” Jared feels weird about how comfortable he is right now, eating mouthfuls of tofu and brocolli while talking about touching his dick sitting next to the guy he got a boner from just some days ago. But he’s not lying. Masturbation is an incredible coping mechanism, if not abused. It always has been (well… almost always) for him.</p><p>“So… have you like-- I don’t know. Like you said that. Heh. That sexuality is open,” Richard starts, playing with the strings on his hoodie, Jared looks at him and tingles, “Have you ever had sex with. With a guy… before? Or. Heh. You don’t have to… to say anything. Really.” Jared can tell this was a hard one to ask. Jared knows that nothing is going to come of this. Really, he does. That’s why he’s responding so quickly. And that’s why thinking about Richard masturbating is making him hard.</p><p>“Yeah. Well, mostly. I’ve done everything except anally penetrate someone. But that’s all.” He takes a bite of broccoli, acting like the statement was as casual as naming the color of the walls. </p><p>“<em>Wow.</em> Really? I mean. I believe you. But like. Wow. Cool.” Richard turns bright red, crossing his legs.</p><p>“Richard?” Jared asks, putting his plate aside and wiping his mouth with a napkin.</p><p>“Mhm?” Richard responds carefully.</p><p>“Do you maybe want me to… touch you? While you look at Tiffany’s breasts?” </p><p>Richard melts. Or freezes. Or does both in an eternal cycle. But it’s so fucking unexpected. They always tiptoe around it. Always. Never a forward move from either of them. This feels so official. </p><p>But it wouldn’t like… mean anything. He’d be getting off to Tiffany’s tits. Guys don’t really turn him on. </p><p>He coughs, looking around the server room. “Uhm. I-- I don’t know. Yeah. Yes. I think so. I… If you wouldn’t like… feel weird about it?” His eyes are anywhere but where Jared is and Jared feels like he’s going to explode from Richard’s lovely little movements. God, life is fucking weird.</p><p>“I wouldn’t. We both wanted to masturbate anyway,” Jared shrugs, small smile lingering on his face. Richard finally makes eye contact with him and immediately breaks it, looking down at his crotch. </p><p>“Yeah. Heh. Bros helping bros, right?” Richard chuckles, and Jared nods in agreement. “I’ll just… sit, like, where?” Richard asks, suddenly acutely aware of his inability to correctly take up space.</p><p>“Sit in front of me, right here,” Jared suggests, now bold and confident, patting down on the space he makes in between his thighs. </p><p>Richard nods, hyper aware of the situation at hand, and he shifts to sit in between Jared’s legs, his back facing Jared’s chest. “This? Like this?” Richard asks soft and hesitant, voice shaky.</p><p>“Yes. This is perfect. Just. Try to relax, okay? Tell me if you want me to stop at any point.” Richard squeezes his eyes shut and nods, grabbing his phone and pulling up Tiffany’s images.</p><p>Jared sneaks his arm around Richard’s waist, circling it so that his hand is resting right on top of Richard’s clothed boner. Richard whimpers, shifting his hips up as Jared pulls him back. Richard unbuttons his khakis and slides them down to below his ass with one hand, the other still holding his phone.</p><p>He can so clearly see the bulge in Richard’s underwear, smiling. <em>You’re doing good Donald. Maybe you won’t have to quit the company after all.</em> “Is this--”</p><p>“Oh my God, shut up, Jared! Ah-- Just. Just like… touch my cock, fuck,” Richard moans out, dropping his phone and pressing one hand firmly against Jared’s hand, leading him to under Richard’s boxers. Jared thumbs his tip. He’s already wet.</p><p>Richard moans high pitched and pretty in response to Jared pulling his dick and balls out of his stupid restricting boxers. “Yeah, yeah,” Richard whimpers, hips thrusting up to make any kind of friction hit his erection.</p><p>Jared puts one hand up Richard’s shirt, thumbing at his left nipple. Richard moans, loud and surprised, his eyes widened in shock. Jesus Christ. He shoots a hand to his mouth, embarrassed immediately. Jared takes it as a hint that Richard likes having his nipples played with. Maybe he didn’t even know.</p><p>He wraps his hand around Richard’s length, decent-sized and a bit girthier than average, but a pretty standard sized cock, and Richard has to physically lift himself off of the bed. Jared guesses nobody’s touched him like this for a while. Maybe not ever. Not like this.</p><p>“Oh, fuck. Oh, ah, God. That’s good,” Richard moans out, fucking himself into Jared’s hand desperately. Jared’s staring in awe. Looking down at the sight in awe, his chin right next to Richard’s head. He watches as the angry purplish skin on Richard’s cock disappears and reappears in his closed fist, smiling. “Yeah. Heh. Yeah. C’mon.” Jared guesses he’s getting close. </p><p>His guess could not have been more correct, Richard spilling cum all over Jared’s fist. All over the underside of his boxers and a little drippage onto Jared’s sheets. The little whimpers coming from Richard’s mouth feel too good to be true. He breathes against Richard’s neck happily, nose pressing against his jaw as he comes. </p><p>Immediately, Jared feels a wet spot form inside of his pants. Fuck. Humiliating.</p><p>Richard stares in front of him in shock, blissful shock, as he feels Jared shift behind him to wipe his hand on the sheets. Richard leans against Jared’s chest, eyes fluttering closed. “That’s fucking nice,” Richard mumbles.</p><p>He tries really hard to pretend not to see that Richard’s phone had fallen face down on the floor before Jared even started touching him. He tries really hard to pretend like his lips didn’t brush Richard’s neck for a second. “Can I… talk?” Jared asks softly. and Richard nods, waving his hand. “I’m going to go to the bathroom to finish up, if that’s alright?”</p><p>“Wait,” Richard says soft and hesitant, sitting up slightly, “Can I… Could I maybe help? Give you… a hand?”</p><p>“That’s really kind, Richard,” Jared smiles, “But… I won’t be very long at all. It’d be lackluster.”</p><p>“Oh,” Richard chuckles, nodding as he pulls his boxers back up, “right, yeah. I understand. I will… Uh… talk to you later, man. Thanks for the... “ he makes the universal handjob signal with his fist and immediately cringes, “God. Sorry… Uh- anyway. Thanks. I will… Yeah. Later.”</p><p>And somehow Richard goes from dick out on his bed to clothed out of his door. Jared doesn't even bother getting up for another five minutes. Just to relish the feelings and the smells and the sounds.</p><p>---</p><p>Jared doesn't sleep in Richard’s room that night. </p><p>He's too terrified. Fuck. And he suggested it. He said he wouldn't be weird. </p><p>But it feels impossible to be so close to Richard now. Feels impossible to hold him against his chest after knowing what he sounds like when he orgasms. After knowing how fast he breathes when he’s getting jerked off. After hearing him praise Jared’s hand like it was a fucking piece of art. </p><p>He gets a text from Richard around midnight asking him if he's coming. Jared ignores his text and falls asleep on his cot, anxiety growing in his stomach.</p><p>---</p><p>He leaves in the morning.</p><p>Richard is up early at five in the morning, and he's made Jared breakfast (gluten free pancakes from a nice little box mix). Jared feels a pang of happiness in his chest, smiling when Richard sits down with him to enjoy breakfast. </p><p>“Vegan… blueberry pancakes. No gluten. Ha. I hope it tastes okay--” Richard takes a bite and flinches, a sour taste hitting his tongue. </p><p>Jared takes a bite and feels the same way, but doesn't, not even for a second, show it. “Tastes good,” Jared smiles, pouring some more sugar-free syrup on them. “Thank you for making these. You really didn't have to.”</p><p>Richard shrugs, taking another bite (a little bit dreadfully). “It's not a big deal,” Richard says soft and tired, “I… Good luck. Y’know? On Jeopardy?”</p><p>There's an unacknowledged thickness in the air between them. But Jared nods anyway, a little smile playing on his lips. They have a secret. A dirty little secret. </p><p>It feels impossible to address. Jared does it anyway.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he looks down at his plate, and Richard does the same, afraid of accidental eye contact, “I-- I don't want to make it appear as if I… as if it was a mistake. I don't think it was.”</p><p>Richard nods, no words coming out of his mouth.</p><p>“I really didn't think anything of it. And I know I might've made you feel weird by not sleeping up in your bed last night. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Richard squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “No, I-- it's okay. You aren't like… obligated. Like obligated to sleep in my bed? That's like. That’s stupid. I mean. It's my bed. Heh. Not yours! So. So, you don't have to be there every night. Of course not.”</p><p>“I understand,” Jared nods, taking another bite.</p><p>“Thanks. Thank you. I’m… Do you want to maybe… Call each other later? You can tell me about how… Adorable Alex Trebek is in real life. Heh.” Richard jokes, remembering the night that he spent drunk on the couch watching Jeopardy! months ago when Jared had walked in and Richard had, apparently, he doesn’t remember, insisted that Alex Trebek was the cutest old man ever to exist.</p><p>It makes Jared smile. “Yes. I would love to have a phone call later tonight. Thank you for asking.” The effort finally seems two-sided. It makes Jared want to sway from side to side, forever stuck in a trance of romance and affliction. </p><p>“Yeah. Of course,” Richard offers, taking one last bite of his half-eaten plate of pancakes. “Let me drive you to the airport.” His tone phrases it like a question but it’s definitely a statement. Jared almost doesn’t tell him that he already has a taxi booked.</p><p>“I’ve got a car on the way, Richard, I’m sorry.” </p><p>Richard blinks, nodding. He understands. He totally understands. But he’s still sad about it.</p><p>“Right! Well… Get your bag, buddy!” Richard laughs, eyes wide and uncomfortable. Jared chuckles in response (and it’s almost entirely based on how incredibly endearing it is to watch Richard find out how to feel things), putting his empty plate in the dishwasher. </p><p>Richard watches Jared’s Uber pull into the driveway as quickly as he spins back out. His somber slouch is telling. <em>He’s gonna fucking miss Jared.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is so self indulgent.......... how embarrassing</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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